


ring around the rosie;

by Starsight (crownhearted)



Series: The Prime Executioner [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownhearted/pseuds/Starsight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite everything, they are alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ring around the rosie;

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellifluousness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellifluousness/gifts).



Twilight is shining through the barrier.

They sit with their knees pulled up to their chest, their arms wrapped around their calves, and they count the rhythms of the way dust hangs in front of them, floating and fragile in the air between them and the fractals of energy.

It's quiet here, but if they listen closely, they can hear humming.

It's a song that they know, they recognize it, it's familiar- but from where? Lullabies were such a far off cry in their childhood, they did not remember any being sung to them. They do not know why, exactly, it is so painfully nostalgic, but they do know that they like it. They always have.

Chara has become a bodyguard in the literal sense of the word. They guard Frisk every second they are able, they guard and measure every step and twitch of the head, they are always ready to pounce. Most people might find such a thing nerve-wracking, but in truth Frisk loves the attention. Whenever they feel like venturing outside of New Home, Chara accompanies them, silent and sneering and snarling- or, that's how they started, anyway.

It has been a long time. Chara now hums, brings knitting needles, seems nearly content as they lean against the entrance to the room and keep a careful peripheral eye on the human. Frisk never feels watched, just guarded, just safe; and it's funny, since they know Chara will be the one to kill them in the end. They are just a hired hand now. Just a forced protector that will become an executioner in no time at all.

But for now, Chara hums. It's often the same tune, but sometimes different; this one is an old favorite. It is the first song they ever hummed in front of Frisk intentionally. It is a wonderful tune and they appreciate it and - how long has it been since they sat down? Their only measure of time is Chara's action. They glance over their shoulder, and- unsurprisingly- Chara is staring at them as they knit. It's funny that, looking into the eyes of the Reaper, Frisk has never felt more _safe_.

They look back at the barrier and resume their huddled position before it. They listen to the song floating softly in from behind them and they shut their eyes against the light of the massive magical mass before them. They know they are prolonging the inevitable, but they have to keep trying- they have to try to save Asriel's good heart from being so, so sad.

 They rise again, and they nearly  _feel_ Chara's knitting needles falter. They are ready at a moment's notice to take this moment from alive to dead. They just reach up and place a hand on the barrier. They feel it give under their fingers, like...like it's going to shatter. They step forward and they push against it. They are consumed by the light. They keep pushing, and pushing, and their skin prickles and the hairs on their arms stand up. They swear that any second now they'll push through and see the sun again, or the stars, and they'll just reach back in and tug everyone through one by one if they have to-

Nothing happens. The barrier gives but only so much.   
It's taken a lot more.

Dejected, they relent, and back up a few paces until they can be seen once more. Chara has stopped knitting. They look behind them again and the humming has stopped, too.

"...I have told you already. I have tried that."

"I know."

"You are wasting our time."

"I know."

They swallow a lump in their throat and think of death. They think of what happens when one dies- nobody really knows. Nobody knows for certain. Moreso, nobody knows what happens when you die and somebody takes your SOUL before you can truly depart this plane of existence. They wonder if the six human SOULS in their canisters are aware of anything, if they can feel- if they can hear, and understand their purpose in their prolonged stay.

They wonder what happens to the SOULS once the barrier is broken by them.

They finally turn and shuffle toward Chara, passing them, heading back home. Their hell-hound trails after, long, paced steps slow and foreboding. Chara casts the most deadly shadow over them, they are a tall and imposing scramble of sharp points that create a person. They are tethered and leashed to this angular angel of death, and they are not permitted to forget it.

Frisk remembers seeing that their SOULS are the same color. They remember how their red hue would complete the rainbow that the other six make. They remember knowing that very instant that there really was no other solution to this problem. They look back at Chara briefly, who inclines an eyebrow in their direction, and then they look forward again as they walk.

"Why do you think our SOULS are both red?"

Chara does not answer.

"I mean, Asriel said it's really rare for that to happen...and the other six SOULS were all different colors. What do you think that means?"

Chara does not answer.

"I think it's because we're a lot alike."

The footsteps stop.  
Perhaps they have, in eight words, cocked and loaded the gun their firing squad of one had been aching to fire.


End file.
